Wicked Bad Boys (90 page)

I
followed
her into the room, mentally rolling through what I would say to her. Lady had been right when she called me a few hours ago—I needed to get everything out in the open. I don’t know why I had taken her call. I was in the middle of a meeting with Kevin and an event promoter, and for some reason, I excused myself answer the phone. Lady had found out about Amanda from Kevin, and wanted me to come clean right away. “
There’s no place for secrets at a time like this, Lorne,”
she had said. Her words made me think. I told her I would tell Amanda the second I came through the door…except this stalker message put a monkey wrench into my plan.

A fresh surge of hesitation rocked me as I stood at the master bedroom door. I didn’t need to work myself up again. I had a doozie of a poor performance at Whiskey River last night. Kevin made a point of reminding me that my disconnection from the crowd set the stage for the outbreak of fighting. With another big show set for tomorrow, I needed to be level-headed and on point.

I realized I was trying to rationalize not telling her again. I stopped myself. I had to tell her now. She meant too much to me to leave her in the dark, or to have her find out another way. I wanted her. She was mine. Things had to fall into place the way it was supposed to be. At the moment, none of that positive self-talk bullshit was doing any good. What was worse, was seeing the darkness in her eyes at the dining table. I could not tell what she was thinking, but it could not be good.

I made sure the door was closed behind me, and as my gaze darted to the floor, that’s when I saw them. Her suitcases were lined up beside the door.

She was leaving?

A cold chill ran down my spine at the thought.

She couldn’t leave. Why would she leave?

“Your suitcases are packed?” My words came out more like a statement, rather than a question. “Amanda, what’s going on?”

I wanted to reach out and take her in my arms. My gut told me she would not allow it.

S
o what’ll it be
, Amanda? Bitch-slap him? All-out throw down? Sleeper hold headlock? Or my famous arm bar move? He would feel it from his arm and shoulders, all the way down to his spleen.

My indecision about how to handle Johnny next left me paralyzed. I sat in an armchair. It felt like hours ticked by, my brain swirling, still frozen in thought. I could tell he was silently looking at me when he moved over to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Amanda? Come on, talk to me. What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird since I got back. Why are your bags packed?”

At the sound of Johnny’s voice, my thoughts narrowed, suddenly clear about one emotion…rage. I whipped around in the chair and glared at him. My body was shaking. The anger almost scared me. I couldn’t remember being this worked up for a long time.

“You have quite the pair of balls on you,” I growled at him, lips snarled back, nose flaring.

Johnny glanced at the door, and back at me.

Smart guy, this one, checking for exits while he still had time
.

The obvious confusion on his face only infuriated me further. Maybe he thought I’d never find out…or that I had to be some kind of idiot.

“Amanda, what are you talking about?” He asked. “Can you start from the beginning? I’m completely lost over here.”

I let out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, no no no. I don’t think so. Don’t give me that ‘I’m lost’ bullshit.”

“Jesus Christ. Would you just tell me what the hell is going on?”

I vaulted from the chair and walked over to his tablet. Sliding it off the desk in the corner, I slammed it into his chest. He scrambled to grab it before I released my grip. I did not want my fingers in contact with his chest any longer than necessary.

“Here, you tell me what’s
going on
.”

He looked from me and down to the tablet a few times, struggling to understand the situation.

I rolled my eyes. The screen was off.

“Turn it on.”

He pushed the power button and the screen lit up again. I had left it on his social media page, his user name in big bold letters at the top.

“Stonefaceviper79? That’s you, right?”

“Oh fuck,” Johnny murmured. He flicked his thumb over the power button, as if darkening the screen would really make a difference at this point. “Amanda, I can explain!” He said, putting down the tablet.

“Oh really? Well this I gotta hear. Although, don’t think an explanation will make any difference now.”

I crossed my arms, my nails digging into my own rib cage, waiting for him and whatever pathetic excuse he was about to give me.

Johnny sighed and raked his free hand through his hair, spiking up the ends. Two hours ago, I would have found it adorable, even sexy, but now, looking at him made me feel ill.

“I… Amanda, I made this profile a long time ago; it was anonymous on purpose. My Johnny Q Venom accounts get clogged with so much spam and crap, I don’t even bother to log onto them. This profile was a way for me to be normal, like any other guy, and not have it attached to my rock-star name.”

I tapped my foot and narrowed my eyes, deliberately showing my impatience.

“Okay, okay. I know, I’ll get to the point,” he said. He held up his hand. “Hell, I don’t know. I saw you fight and I wanted to know more about you. I looked you up, followed you on social media…innocent stuff. Eventually, that wasn’t enough, and I used this profile to send you a message. I swear, I never thought you would reply, but you did, and—” His voice broke. He looked out at the window. His jaw was tense, and he struggled for a moment before looking back at me. “Amanda, I fell for you.”

“Don’t even think that’s gonna soften me up right now.”

He groaned. “It’s true, but believe whatever you want. Whenever you had a shitty day, if I could bring you some joy by posting some encouragement… well, it made my day so much better.”

I sucked in a breath and held it, trying not to let Johnny see the effect he was having on me. The anger, the feelings of invasion and violation, and betrayal were still there, but something else was creeping in. I shoved it aside, not wanting to let it in right now.

“So you became my stalker? Then you got me to come here under this pretense of a job opportunity? And I’m supposed to believe I can protect you from your own stalker now?” I almost laughed again; the irony was beyond ridiculous. I threw my hands up in the air. “Johnny, that is so fucked up! Don’t you get it?”

He nodded. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“That’s bullshit! You’re the one who made Kevin hire me in the first place!” He flinched. “Surprised I’m smart enough to figure it out? You really did think I was an idiot, didn’t you?”

“No…but how did you—Christ! Well, okay, yes. I’m not going to lie to you.”

“Not going to lie to me? You’ve been lying to me the whole time!” I was yelling now, unable to keep my voice under control for one more second. The shaking was getting worse and I could feel hot, frustrated tears rising up. I did my best to tamp down the emotional hurricane, but my efforts would only be able to hold on so long. I needed to get away from him. From this house. From the whole disaster.

“Amanda, listen to me,” he said, raising his voice over mine.

He was losing control. We both were. This was not going to end well. I had nowhere to go…unless I wanted to camp out in the living room or throw a blanket on the treadmill in the den.

His face softened. He grasped my shoulders to pull me into him.

Bad idea.

Really bad idea.

I wrenched myself away and kept a hold of one of his arms, locking it behind his back. He couldn’t move in this submission hold, and he was
not
going to touch me.

“No, Johnny, you listen to
me
.”

“What are you going to do, Amanda? Beat me up? If that’s what it’s going to take to get you to calm down, then fine. Go ahead. Get it out of your system.”

I let him go and took a step back. I didn’t like where it was going. I was a fighter. I would so win this, but then what? I stared him in the eyes. God, I wish he didn’t look so damned endearing as he stood his ground.

I squared my shoulders. “I am going to finish this job.” My voice dropped several octaves.

“I appreciate that__”

“I’m not done talking. I’ll finish it because I made a commitment, but to be honest, all this does is make me question whether you hired me on merit in the first place. From where I’m standing, I highly doubt it.”

“That’s not true—” he started to reply, but I cut him off.

“When the tour is done, I’m going to get the hell away from you.” I turned and continued as I walked over to my suitcases. “For the rest of the time I’m here, you will only speak to me if it’s necessary and job-related. That’s the extent of our professional-only interaction. Got it?”

“Amanda—” he said, voice full of remorse.

He walked up behind me when I pulled on the zipper of one suitcase to close it. I stood up and looked up at his repentant face. He must have been trying to manipulate me with those wide, pleading eyes.

“No. You don’t get to tell me anything else.”

His eyes were wild as he searched my stony face. The wounded look in his stare almost broke me, but I dug deeper and found a new layer of resolve.

“The only reason I followed you online is because I cared about you. Can’t you see that?”

“I’m sure your stalker cares about you too.”

“Come on. You can’t compare me to her. I wasn’t doing it to be malicious.”

“It doesn’t matter what your intention was! Don’t you get that? I have been hurt by only one man before and I thought—”

My voice broke away. My throat tightened. I had said too much.

“Who hurt you? You never told me about anyone. Is that why you won’t give me a chance?”

“This conversation is about you. Not my past. I really thought you were different, but you’ve been lying to me this whole time.”

“I…you’re right. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Amanda.”

I was already weak and worn out from this confrontation. I walked over to my phone and unplugged it from the charger, sliding it into my pocket, and stuffing the charger into my bag. I sat beside my suitcases. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Now it feels like everything has been a lie. I thought we were getting to know each other, getting closer, when in reality, you’ve been stalking me for three years. What am I supposed to feel about that, huh?”

“I wasn’t stalking you Amanda,” he insisted.

“You messaged me, followed my profiles, built a virtual relationship with me for three years. Then, when you had your chance, you brought me out to basically live with you…without being upfront about who you really were. How is that not stalking?”

“My intentions were never to hurt you.”

“No, just to fool me into thinking I could have a real shot at this security business. Oh and get into my pants, right? I guess that was just icing on the cake.”

“None of that is true.”

“And last night?” I said, the wind already knocked out of me. “Was that part of your game too?”

“Come on, Amanda. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

My hands curled into fists. It took everything in me to keep from standing up to reel one back and punch him in the face.

“Go to hell, Johnny.” I opted for nonviolence. I got up and dragged my suitcases to the door. “I’ll be out there…in the living room…or wherever I can find space in this suite. Only call for me if it’s urgent.”

I pulled the door to slam it shut before he could say another word.

F
uck
, fuck, fuck.

Amanda slammed the door behind her, and I was left gutted on the other side. She had not hit me, although toward the end I could tell she wanted to, and a part of me wished she had. She had every right. My last comment had been out of line.

“What were you thinking?” I paced the room. I wanted to punch something, to break something. It was ripping my chest apart. It needed to be unleashed; the anger and regret inside me knotted up my insides. It was more than I could handle.

My hands raked through my hair as I circled the room. Thoughts on how to fix this ping-ponged around my mind, but I was left with no real solutions. Just when things had begun to feel right between Amanda and me, a new shitstorm hit—caused entirely by yours truly. I groaned out and sat on the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands.

Lorne, you’re such an ass!

Flowers and cookies weren’t going to get me out of this mess. No way. Nothing was going to fix it easily—not even jewelry. I couldn’t charm, or buy, or talk my way out of it.

Then it hit me.

I could lose her over this.

Fuck.

The realization slid down my stomach like a hot coal, searing my insides. There was no way I would let that happen.

Amanda was mad as hell, and I couldn’t blame her. I had misled her, figuring she would come around when she eventually found out. ‘Eventually’ came a few hours
before
I was ready, and fuck, all that we had was spinning down the drain. She must have thought I was some kind of animal.

A monster.

A sick game-playing, girl-banging prick and a half.

I tried to calm down. Being stuck in this room and on a leash for so long had already begun to drive me insane. This newest repercussion was only going to make it that much worse. There was one more event before I could get back to LA and relax before the final two stops. The timing was horrible.

I should have done something sooner.

I should not have let her leave this room. Not without my hands pleasuring her smoking hot body, reminding her how far we had come. With that in mind, I went out to the living room—I was getting my woman back.

A
manda was not
in the living room. Neither were her suitcases. I went from room to room, and heard sounds coming from the den.

“Amanda.” I rapped on the half-opened door. “Can we just talk about this for a minute?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said.

I looked through the open doorway. She had managed to drag a loveseat from the sunken living room and up three steps to get it in the den. The empty spot for stretching was now occupied.

“There’s no way you’re sleeping in that,” I told her, stepping inside the already cramped space.

“Well I’m not sleeping with you. I have to stay in the suite to do my job. This will have to do.”

I took hold of her arm and stepped in front of her. “Jesus, Amanda. Will you just talk to me?”

She stopped and looked up at me. “Okay. What do you want to say before I get ready to relax?”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I was wrong.”

“Okay. I heard your apology. You can leave now.”

“What? Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

She let out a breath. “Johnny, come on, you deceived me. How do you expect me to feel?”

“No, Amanda, I did not deceive you. I just left out a few details. It doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Of course it does.”

She pushed past me to the other side of the door and grabbed her first suitcase. Automatically, I reached out and took it from her. She looked up at me, glowering.

“I’m not letting you sleep in this room,” I said, refusing to let her take it back.

“You don’t get to tell me where I sleep tonight.”

“You’re not sleeping in here.” I put the suitcase at the door again. “If you don’t want me near you, fine, I’ll sleep on the couch, or in Kevin’s spare bedroom across the hall.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s your place.”

“I don’t care whose place it is. You’re not curling up in that thing. It’s half your height.”

She moved around me to get her the luggage again. I closed in. She felt I was standing directly behind her, and set the bag down. I put my arms around her waist, lightly at first, as this woman could throw me using an over-the-shoulder pass—one that could land me on my ass, right through the door and out the den.

She did not push me away or recoil from my touch. She sank back into my chest and her head dropped forward. Her breathing changed.

Then I heard a whimper.

Shit. She was crying.

Fuck.

“Oh God. Please don’t cry, Amanda.” I turned her now pliable body to face me and buried her tear-soaked face in my chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. I was stupid. I never meant to hurt you.”

Once I took her in my arms, she was the most silent female crying person I had ever met. My chest was wet, but she didn’t heave, mutter, whimper, or let out any high-pitched sighs. This was a whole new method of shedding tears. Shit, did it ever tug at my heart strings. It elicited this contradiction of emotion in me—the strong urge to protect her, and the abject guilt from being the cause of her misery.

After a few minutes, she pulled away just enough to bring her hands to her face. She brushed some tears away. Her face was red, and her eyes were slightly swollen. She would not look at me. “I didn’t think you could hurt me like this, Johnny,” she said between sniffles. “I promised I would not let anyone this close again…”

I sat her on the loveseat and kneeled at her feet, finally at eye level, to make her look me in the eye. I ran my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. “I promise you… I swear to you right now…I won’t ever hurt you again.”

Amanda stared back at me, lost, her eyes pleading and saddened. I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. All I wanted to do was envelope her in my arms and let time take us back to last night. She said nothing. I sat beside her and pulled her in to lean on me. There was no point telling her the things I would do and be for her. When it was all said and done, I had betrayed her trust, and it was going to be a long road to earn it back again. At least she was not pushing me away right now.

“I need a few minutes alone,” she said. “We can talk later. Right now I just need some time.”

She pulled from my chest and walked out of the room to the bathroom near the front door. The door closed and locked behind her.

M
y stomach growled
about an hour later. Amanda was still in the bathroom. I realized for the first time that I had not eaten much all day. I stepped into the living area. No one was around, but there were voices coming from the guest rooms Fred, his men and the other guards occupied. I got closer. They were going through an evening briefing. I stared at the kitchen, mentally debating whether I wanted anything from the catered food trays that looked like they had been sitting there since lunch time.

What I really wanted to do was get out of here.

Whenever I felt like this, a night drive with the windows down was usually enough to help me get my head together. The problem was, we had flown to Vegas, and I was being driven around by limos and private security SUVs.

I had to get out of this hotel suite.

The walls were closing in.

Leaving would not get Amanda out of my head, but it would give me some room to breathe. I walked back to my bedroom and phoned the concierge desk, requesting they arrange a rental car for me. I didn’t care what they had available. The concierge put me on hold for less than a minute, and returned with confirmation a car would be waiting for me down at the valet within twenty minutes.

After I hung up, I thought of asking Amanda to come with me.

She would not go for it right now.

The thought of never having Amanda ride shotgun with me…I was even more angry and frustrated. If the situation had been different, we could be cruising the Strip, checking out the city, having some fun for a change.

I groaned as I found some clothes, along with my baseball cap and sunglasses. Dressing quickly, I slipped on my leather jacket, left my room and walked out the front door. No one was in the hallway either. They must have all been at the briefing. Impressive. I managed my escape without anyone noticing.

Or at least, so I thought.